From Here On Out
by Skellig8
Summary: Wrongly accused of cheating, Jim is given the cold shoulder by Spock, and seeing Spock's heartbreak, the Enterprise follows. Dark days follow Jim who has to deal with a fractured mind and healing. Warning: dark imagery, slash. K/S Pairing
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, back again with another story. This is more true to myself with the imagery and whatnot. This has been lovingly looked over by jouissant, you know her as the co-author to "Vulcans Are Fangirls Too." Thanks to her encouraging words, this has been brought to fruition. Reviews are love, and I DO post more with them. Because you guys keep saying it's wonderful and then I write more. It's a never ending cycle. **

**From the prompt on page 5 of part seven kink meme. This was a good one, OP, I couldn't stop thinking about it for days. That's why it's so long…**

**Disclaimah: I own nothing, just playing.**

~*~*~

Jim was trapped in Hell. He railed against his captor's hold fiercely, only to amuse him further. His every thought was contaminated, following along pathways of his mind. Jim went to his link with Spock, desperate to get help and to get out of here. The link slammed shut in front of him. He was shut off completely from everyone.

Jim's mind slowed down, becoming sluggish, lazy, and aroused. Distantly**,** he was aware of his physical body being manipulated. His skin was bare, when did that happen? His memories became fuzzy at that point. How did he get here from the party? The last thing he remembered was talking with Spock and going to the bar for another drink. If he was here, where was Spock?

"Sp'ck," Jim slurred**,** trying to open his eyes all the way; he had to get back to his Vulcan. It was important, even though he didn't remember why. His body moved against red-hued skin. No, that wasn't right. Spock felt red hot, but he wasn't red. He was pale, with green.

His mind sunk deeper beneath the fog, even though all his senses were starting to scream no! No! NO! Something made his body relax**,** and he sighed and his eyes rolled back as a body crawled atop his own. It was a pleasant feeling, but something niggled at the back of his mind.

Light seared his vision; he blinked rapidly as his eyes got used to the light. He recognized the forms of people, but they were so bright. He knew them. He really did.

"What?" he heard his voice distantly, like he had cotton in his ears. "Spock?"

He couldn't focus on Spock's words, they moved so quickly out of his mouth. He couldn't concentrate on them. He giggled, not sure why it was funny, but he felt funny.

Was it funny?

"Spock!" he called after the retreating figure.

He didn't know much about what happened after that. Blurry shapes assaulted him and he was aware of a distant pain, not like a sharp cut, but a deep persistent ache. All he knew was that he had to get out of here and find Bones. Bones could fix this. Bones could fix anything. He pulled on some clothes, not sure if they were his or not.

"Bones," he muttered, making his way out.

~*~*~

He didn't know how long he walked or where he was. Buildings looked fuzzy under the dark sky. For a moment he was enraptured with the moon, staring upwards for a long period of time. He returned his gaze to the ground. Oh, he didn't feel so good. He retched on the side of a building.

What a miserable existence.

He stood under a streetlamp and looked at his feet; it was hard to hold his head up. Dark red blood oozed out of his feet, so dark it was almost black in the faint light. Where was he again? He was supposed to be somewhere. It was important…

~*~

A droid officer was sent in to assess the situation: a strange man walking around with no shoes and only pants on. The man walking around seemed dazed and confused.

"Citizen," the droid approached. "Identify yourself."

Jim turned to the voice speaking to him. He was confused.

"Do you understand, Citizen?"

"Bones?"

"Does not compute, engaging audio record," was the droids mechanical voice. "Citizen, are you in need of medical assistance?"

Jim only heard the word medical. Bones was medical. "Yes," he nodded vigorously, stumbling when he nodded too hard and lost his balance. "I need Bones to fix me up," he slurred.

The droid called for medical assistance and engaged protocols to keep the distressed man calm.

They packed him carefully in the medical unit and he was carted off to the hospital.

"What's your name, son?" one of the older male EMTs asked.

Jim thought carefully. Where was he again? He flashed back to a time that should never be spoken of again. "JT," he answered slowly, softly. They wanted to know his name, he needed to protect them, they were relying on him to keep them all safe.

"Okay, JT," the man soothed. "We're taking you to the hospital because you've been

through the wringer. Your vitals are way out of whack and we are going to figure out

what's wrong, okay?"

"Did Kevin make it?" he asked the older man. "I carried him to the ships, is he okay?"

"Who's Kevin, JT?"

"They came for his family. I pulled him out of the crowd. His older sister came with us,

but she didn't make it." He shuddered.

"What happened to her?"

"They got her."

"Who got her?"

But Jim remained silent until they reached the hospital. He was whisked into a room in the ER, though it was buzzing with activity.

"This is JT; he was called in because he was wandering the streets. No ID, but his vitals are all over the place. He has all the symptoms of being drugged. I don't know, he was talking on the way over, but he's stopped."

~*~*~

Jim didn't know much else until he was admitted to the hospital and moved upstairs. He had been poked and prodded in the ER, the doctor's tricorder beeping over him.

"JT?" The doctor spoke with him. He only knew it wasn't Bones.

"Yes?"

"Nice to meet you, JT. I don't know if you remember, but I'm Dr. Farley. I don't know how much you're going to remember of this, but here it is. You're in acute psychic shock and you've been hyped up on some sort of drug. The tests for that will be back soon. Do you know where you are?"

"Sickbay," he uttered. These guys picked him up, didn't they? They should know.

"Do you have anyone you can call?"

"No," and he was silent for awhile. He never had anyone to call.

"JT?"

"Yeah?" he looked back at the fuzzy doctor.

"You sure there's no one?"

"No, they killed Auntie Karen and Uncle Joe. No one will be there on Earth when we get

there."

"JT, we are on Earth. This is San Francisco."

Jim looked at him with confusion. The doctor sighed. "How about we try in a little bit, huh? Maybe it will make more sense."

It wasn't a criminal case, so "JT" wasn't checked for prints or warrants right away. They hadn't found anything on a record and he was stable, so there was no rush. The doctor was reluctant to give his patient anything, especially during such an acute case of shock. The majority of it would pass, so he would be able to find the damage. Then he could work on a treatment plan and find out who his newest patient was.


	2. Chapter 2

~*~*~

They ran his fingerprints through the system later and soon enough he was whisked away to Starfleet Medical. The next two weeks passed in a blur for Jim. He passed each day with a little more coherency and active consciousness. He remembered being ill, throwing up and the massive headaches. But most of all, he began to remember flashes of what had happened to him.

The pain settled in on him, and he retched constantly; he could not keep his food down. The pink plastic kidney bowl was his constant companion. What was worse were the seizures. He cried through the pain, disassociation, and vertigo. Warm hands in rubber gloves with soft voices stroked his forehead in comfort as they injected anti-seizure medication and made sure he didn't bite his tongue through the worst ones.

He regained enough coherence to be discharged from the hospital. He sat outside the medical building in a borrowed set of scrubs and hospital loafers, clutching the white bag of medicine to his chest. He had nowhere to go. His emergency contacts hadn't come through. His mother was on a field mission in space; she wasn't home. He checked his messages before leaving. Bones' messages went from angry to disappointed and finally to pleading for him to pick up the phone. He could deal with an angry Bones, but a disappointed one he had no defenses against.

The rest was hate mail, so he deleted all of it.

There were no messages from Spock.

~*~*~

He had about a week of shore leave left. The Enterprise had a short period of time to make repairs before they had to get back out into deep space. They had cracked a warp engine, and Scotty had jerry-rigged it to keep it stable until they were able to get to the closest starbase or Earth if they could manage it. They hadn't been far from Earth and decided to dock there and make nice with the admiralty. Part of that was attending diplomatic parties and schmoozing, buttering up famous scientists and getting new recruits.

Jim put Scotty on a feasible timetable to achieve his desired modifications on the Enterprise's engine room while they were there. He wondered how far the man had gotten.

People started to recognize him outside Starfleet Medical and take photographs. Dammit. He hoped the person he called would show up soon.

A black Starfleet-issued hover car pulled up and the door opened. Admiral Pike was sitting there waiting for him.

"Hi, Chris," Jim said in a low voice as he got into the hover car.

Pike was taken aback at the young man getting into the car. So unlike the exuberant youth he had known just a short while ago.

"Oh, Jim," Pike murmured and then was flashing back to the memory of a younger Jim, much like this one, so very thin and broken. He was quiet then too.

Jim knew how to deal with this condition. He had lost a great amount of weight in the hospital, and had a constant feeling of fatigue. Weariness set into his bones as a deep ache, one he knew was probably a psychological reaction to his broken mind. Spock had shown him how to center himself. What was once a little rough around the edges now lay shatteredas broken glass. Spock wouldn't want this; he had been irreparably broken. **"**Damaged goods**"** was a phrase he often used.

"You'll stay with me until you have to go back," Pike said softly.

"Okay," Jim nodded looking out the window, clutching the door handle like a lifeline.

~*~*~

Aboard the Enterprise, the bridge crew wasn't disobedient, but they regarded him with a cold shoulder and questioning things when they could. Overall, Jim's patience was growing thin, but then, he felt the deep guilt he could not explain. They believed the worst of him.

So he kept silent as much as he could. His trials of trying to get Spock to speak to him had failed miserably and came with the extra whiplash of Uhura's sharp tongue. Even Bones wouldn't look at him without disappointment. He thought their friendship was stronger than that. He thought they realized his loyalty. They didn't have faith in his integrity, or his person. Hadn't he proved otherwise? Didn't they know him? He wasn't this shallow.

~*~*~

There were few he found were sympathetic with him. One was Spock's older counterpart, also known as Ambassador Selek, who looked at him sadly as he explained what limited amount he knew.

"What was his name?" Selek asked.

Jim's brows scrunched together, indistinct flashes passed before his eyes. "I…I don't know."

He closed his eyes tightly, and tried to concentrate on the other's face. The closer he got to the memories, the more his body felt weak. He felt the memory fading once again.

He opened his eyes to his ceiling. What?

"Jim!" came the voice from the console. "Jim!"

He pulled himself off the floor using the chair and the desk, getting resettled. "Hey, old

man," he returned as he looked at the worried visage of his friend.

"Jim, what happened?"

He rubbed his mouth, tasting copper. "Seizure, I think."

"You must send me your medical files. Psychic trauma is nothing to disregard. I will have a Vulcan healer examine them," Selek instructed. "I believe there is more the situation than it seems. It may have been a premeditated attack."

"I hope you're right," Jim felt tears prick his eyes. "It's all the hope I've got. Spock left me, my friends left me. I don't think I'm going to survive this."

"I will help you figure this out, Jim. Do not give up just yet."

~*~*~*~*~*~

The best treatment that Jim got over the next few months was indifference. Besides communications with Selek, few people spoke to him kindly when he was off-duty. Scotty was amongst them. Scotty had confessed during a night of drinking, "Aye, I remember exile. Wha's worse is you have to do it amongst those who condemned you. I dunna know what's worse though; with those who know and punish ye every day or bein' alone with yer thoughts."

That about summed it up.

~*~

Jim didn't try to think about what happened, he couldn't get more than the few brief hints that he had seen over and over. If he concentrated harder he ended up with vicious migraines or seizures, sometimes both.

They had a year left of the mission and he and Bones were barelyback on speaking terms. He was surprised when his primary care went to M'Benga, who did not hold a grudge against him, but was very concerned for his captain's health. It was stable, but overall it was poor. He had been worse before, not like he didn't deserve it either. Despite treatment and medication Jim was still woefully thin; Jim forgot to eat or he just didn't feel hungry. He had regressed back into the remembered days of famine.

M'Benga tried supervising his meals at least a few times a week if there was nothing else going on. "You must eat. Your body needs food to survive."

Jim had looked up at him and gave him an inscrutable stare. "Lies," he whispered vehemently and cleared his tray, going off on his own.

~*~*~

There was a blinking light on his console when he returned to his quarters at the end of shift. A message. Selek's face popped up as he played the message.

"We got him, Jim. We got him."

And he cried.

~*~*~

The Enterprise was called back to Earth nearly three months before the end of their mission. Jim's hands shook as he stared at the court summons. He would be called upon to testify against a known member of a terrorist organization that was quite anti-Federation. He could finally be healed as well.

Starfleet Intelligence had been alerted to the terrorist wing earlier, but a certain call from an Ambassador had put them on a hot trail. They had caught the man, Mehal Ohrst, part of the Separatist movement in the planets that were not yet part of the Federation or the Empires. Jim stared at the mug shot of the nearly crimson-hued man with dark black hair and eyes. Quite attractive. The man's MO was meeting diplomats and those in position of power, or in his case, hero status, and infiltrating their minds. Out of the seven known people three had survived the attacks. Jim and Admiral Rodgers lived through the psychic trauma, the other had not been so lucky and was currently undergoing treatment in Starfleet's sanitarium.


	3. Chapter 3

~*~

Spock had been making plans to return to New Vulcan with his father when he heard the Enterprise would be returning earlier than expected. He regarded Jim this past year and a half and had been most distressed by his Captain's failing health. He had kept a professional front as noted by Nyota, and had done so to no detrimental effect. The rest of the crew would enjoy a three month shore leave before the Enterprise would be recomissioned.

Jim stayed on the Enterprise until the court date, which was two days after they docked. His part in the trial was small; they needed his testimony and medical records submitted as evidence. His eyes traveled to the public seats where he met the soft eyes of Ambassador Selek. Reassured, he gave his statement with confidence. After his day in court the news hit the nets while the jury was convening. Flashes went off in his face as he left the courthouse, his face posted in every major news source; even the tabloids had some interesting information.

~*~*~

Jim was assigned a Betazoid healer to see if any repairs could be made to his mental health. Jim had briefly learned techniques when he had returned from that god-awful wasteland of Tarsus, and more when he was learning what it would was to be bonded to Spock. Shields were almost always in place. When the Betazoid requested he loosen his shields they came down a little too quickly. The healer passed out from his projection from three feet away. He pushed his feelings down once more and they tried again to the same effect.

"I'm sorry I cannot help you," the black eyes of his healer looked back at him. "How strange that man's body is so small, but his capacity for suffering is immense."

Ambassador Selek heard and sent for a Vulcan healer, one that was part of the Vulcan Embassy and was there for the Vulcans temporarily settled on Earth. The Vulcan kept her composure for much longer than her predecessor, but the combined traumas were enough for her to cry out. The pain of a fractured bond, of everything that happened had overwhelmed her.

"I am not the best candidate for your healing, Captain Kirk," she spoke levelly, her composure back under control. "I recommend in your case to find an Adept from Gol."

It would take time for that to happen, with the tragedy of Vulcan and many of the Adepts occupied with projects on New Vulcan. Selek helped as much as he could, but the needs of the many outweigh the needs of one. Selek himself tried to help with the mental healing as much as he could. But Jim quickly put a stop to it when he found out the old man wept at the state of Jim's mind. Jim closed his mind, muffling it for those who could hear its distress. He comforted Selek as best he could.

"Guess I have good coping mechanisms…either that, I must've run out of tears." It came as no surprise that those words didn't comfort Selek at all.

~*~*~

With another two months of shore leave Jim returned to Iowa to reconsider his options. He didn't want to work on an Enterprise that hated him. He didn't tell anyone where he was going or give hints to where he would be staying. He was world-weary again and back to his old habits. He drank himself to the bottom of countless bottles and got into as many fights as he could to make the outside match the inside.

Sheriff Martin took pity on Winona's boy and often put him up under his supervision in the jail cell or drove the young man home. Jim felt truly, utterly broken for the first time. He must be cursed; things he touched or got involved with broke or died. He knew he couldn't get away from this one as well.

He had run from a childhood that was shrouded by grief, taking reprieve in the colony of Tarsus. Those scars he still bore. He had run from a troubled existence and the shadow of his father when he joined Starfleet only to lose his best friends and the respect of his crew. Now, most of all, he wanted to run from the constant agony of a deteriorating Vulcan bond. But he couldn't run anymore, he was too tired of running.

~*~*~

When Spock heard the news of the ongoing trial and exposure of the terrorist wing, he was surprised at the details. Jim was very lucky indeed. He found the details of the psychic trauma; he closed his eyes briefly, giving only a hint of his expression. A delicate human way of saying 'mind rape.'

Jim's mind had been violated and he had pushed the other man away, thinking it was Jim's lack of commitment. He tried to get more information, but most of it was denied. He looked among those who were working on getting the group arrested and tried. Ambassador Selek. He would know.

~*~*~

"Though circumstances vary between our universes, I find I am quite fascinated with the people I come across," Ambassador Selek began his lecture when Spock stepped into the small garden behind the Vulcan Embassy. "I find that many personalities are similar to ones I have known… Including your Captain. I met several versions of the man, due to unusual circumstances, but in every incarnation he was a dynamic individual. Through the face of adversity the man remained undefeated and unbowed and did not turn into a bitter individual, but one of compassion. He was slow to anger, indeed, but quick to forgive. Myself included. He has the greatest capacity for love that I have ever known or encountered in all my travels."

The elder Spock bent to attend a rose bush; he plucked out a red rose and carefully removed the thorns from the flower in full bloom. He walked slowly toward Spock and handed him the bloom gently. "He returned home for the remainder of shore leave."

Spock found he had nothing to say. What could he say?

"I suggest you do not make the same mistake as I and continue on the path that feels right," Selek raised his hand in the ta'al. "Good luck."

~*~

Jim watched as the lazy curls of smoke moved towards the bar's ceiling, watching them dissipate before taking another drag. The cigarette was cheap and awful, but who the fuck cared? He didn't, not anymore. Many potential partners had approached him since he came home, wanting a piece of the hometown hero. The remnants of the bond wouldn't allow it; nor would his loyalty to Spock. He didn't want them anyway. There was only one he did and God, that had been a total clusterfuck. He resolved himself to spending his nights alone.

Was he so unreliable and disloyal? How could Spock doubt him after everything that happened? He snorted, giving a few chuckles for himself. Guess the Jim Kirk of this universe was meant to suffer.

He was partway through a bottle of Jack when the door opened and it paused slightly. Longer than necessary, so, someone new. They must be hesitating at the door, letting in the light of the afternoon sun.

It could only be someone looking for him. He turned and saw the graceful column of Spock walking toward him. Spock looked beautiful, dressed in all black, even in the dim light of the dank bar. He had stopped when Jim turned. Jim returned to his drink, pouring another two fingers into the glass. He was going to need it.

"Captain," Spock ventured when he was three feet away.

"Have a seat, Mr. Spock. Take a load off," Jim offered the barstool next to his. "Want a

drink?"

"That will be unnecessary, Captain."

"Hm," Jim hummed into his glass. "So, how long before you go to New Vulcan?"

For a second Spock looked unsure of himself.

"I am as yet undecided."

"Funny, I thought I would have to find a new first officer."

"I was unaware of circumstances that led to the events of the past month. I heard of the

trial and learned a great deal of information. Why was I not informed?"

Jim's eyes hardened staring into his glass. "You know, when people got tired of me, or dealing with me when I was a kid; they sent me away and wiped their hands of me. They don't talk to me, so I rarely give them that sort of information. You made it quite clear you were done with us and wanted nothing more to do with me. I couldn't convince you otherwise."

They both were silent for a while. Spock sat next to this man, so pale and drawn, yet clearly not yet done fighting. How strong must Jim Kirk be?

"Jim," Spock began again.

Jim sighed, idly twirling his drink. "Yeah, Spock?"

"I…," Spock paused, unsure of what he should say. "Have you eaten?"

Jim stabbed his cigarette butt into the ashtray, it had burned out while he was distracted. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a new one from the pack in his pocket. He lit up with an acquired Zippo lighter, he had gotten it as the spoils of a fight. He inhaled with closed eyes. He sighed through his nostrils blowing out the smoke, "Well, it's no chicken dinner, but it's what I've got."

"Jim," Spock began again.

"Obviously you're here because you want something from me, Spock. That's the only time I get spoken to is when someone wants something. What do you need? A drink?" Jim slammed back his whiskey. "A smoke? A fuck? Is that what you want?"

Jim stood up and staggered a little, moving towards the door. He turned back to Spock who was unsure of this Jim Kirk, he had never met his captain in such a state. He raised his arms helplessly. "What do you want from me, Spock? I have nothing to give. It's all been taken from me."

Jim stormed out the door into the dusty Iowan heat. The sun was beginning its decent into the horizon, it wouldn't be long before sunset. He kicked the parking lot dust and made his way toward the road. He had drank too much already, he wasn't driving. He snorted, he might kill himself if he did. Suddenly it was the funniest thing in the world and he chuckled lowly, almost hysterical.

"Jim?" Spock questioned from behind him.

"Go away, Spock," Jim sounded weary. "You made sure you were done with me. Go back to Uhura and New Vulcan and have fat Vulcan babies. Good luck with your new life."

He started walking but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. "Jim, do not go. Do not leave me."

For that Jim turned around to face Spock, angry. "Me… leave you?" Tears pricked his eyes. "I think you already made that choice, Spock. You were already gone. No matter how much I asked-no- begged! Pleaded with you!"

Spock cast his eyes downward, ashamed. It was interesting to see him so uncertain, usually Spock was the collected one, the impassive one. Any other time he would have capitalized the situation, but right now he just wanted Spock to go away.

Tears flowed down his face, he sniffed loudly reigning himself back in. "I could deal with the whole thing, Spock. The trauma, the Enterprise hating me, Hell, even Bones hating me, and everything else as long as I had you. The bond was broken against my will, Spock. Do you know how much it hurts? Not just from one side, but both?"

He sucked in a breath, trying to get back under control. "Guess what, Spock. A Vulcan healer couldn't even help me. I emotionally compromised her, Spock, she was so overwhelmed. She said I would need an Adept from Gol to help me. I know who those Adepts are, and Hell, Spock. It's not going to happen in this lifetime."

He took another breath, breathing slower finding more control between each breath. "What do you need, Spock?"

They stood silently for another moment.

"If it's forgiveness you want, you already have it. You had it as soon as you walked through that door. Now," Jim cleared his throat, his actions and feelings coming back at him full force. He was sober now, the stress kicking adrenaline into his system. This wasn't about him, this was about Spock trying to alleviate his own guilt (even if he claimed he felt none) about the situation. He had dealt with this before, from his mother, from countless others trying to make things right in a situation that was too far gone. "You have what you came for. I'm going home."

Jim shrugged off Spock's hand, making his way toward his motorcycle.

"Captain, you are inebriated. You should not drive."

"Sorry, Spock," Jim pulled on his helmet and flipped up the visor. "You gave up every right to have a say in my life. We aren't on the Enterprise, and I'm not your boyfriend anymore."

Jim started up the bike, a dull roar in his ears, and he made sure to kick up a lot of dust as he peeled out of the parking lot.

~*~*~

He drove for a long while to clear his head, feeling free at high speeds along the road. He felt more alive the faster he went. He passed the quarry and without a second thought turned; he revved his bike and gunned it toward the edge.


	4. Chapter 4

He stared at the stars for a long time next to his scratched up bike. He was ten feet from the edge and had slid here when he braked. His helmet removed, he lay spread-eagled looking up at the clear night sky. He could see the milky way, it's lighter hue against the darkness. The stars didn't judge him, he was too small down here for them to see. He followed the bright sparks of satellites across the sky and thought of deep space, the places he had been. He was meant to be up there with them, if they would have him.

The stars remained silent, offering him no answers. They remained, winking at him seductively even when he was covered in dirt. Worthless.

He sighed and slowly got up, body aching with scrapes and bruises. He would feel more in the morning for sure. He picked up his bike and started it up, turning on the headlight. He drove toward home; another empty night.

~*~*~

The porch light was on.

A dark figure was waiting for him on the porch steps. He parked, shut off his bike, and pulled off his helmet.

"I could've sworn I locked that," was Jim's opening gambit. "Interesting how visitors just seem to turn up? I'm assuming you broke in for a reason."

"I did not break in."

"Oh?" Jim raised an amused eyebrow. "Most guests don't need to pick the lock to get in. Doors are usually open for welcome company."

"I found a key underneath the doormat. I find that humans are most illogical in their hiding places."

"I thought we were done, Spock. Go home."

"I find I cannot."

Jim approached the still seated Vulcan on his steps. His footsteps crackled as he stepped over the gravel. "Why can't you just leave me be?"

Jim stared down at Spock who looked back solemnly. Spock stood up slowly, "I cannot."

"Go away, Spock," Jim sighed.

"I find that I cannot turn away when a friend needs my help. Regardless if he does not want it."

"Should be easy enough, you have plenty of practice."

Spock took the sting with good grace. Jim was impressed; there was no change to the Vulcan's expression. "Jim."

"Good night, Spock."

That's when Spock reached for him, pulling him tightly against his own chest. Jim struggled, flailing with pinned arms. He pushed, but his strength was failing him.

"No!"

No, Spock had to go, to save himself. He didn't deserve this mess that he was right now. He tried a different tactic, he relaxed a little and when Spock did so in turn, he fought again.

They ended up losing their balance, Spock landed on top of Jim, arms wrapped tightly around him. Jim pushed and pushed until he couldn't anymore. His tears began again and he clung tightly to Spock, he was tired of fighting. He was tired of running.

He buried his face into the crook of Spock's neck.

"You left me," he cried.

"I know."

"I fought him. I did, Spock. I didn't want it."

"I know, Jim. It is not your fault."

"I called for you. Every night."

"I sorry, Jim," Spock moved and petted his hair gently, stroking over his face with utmost care, wiping away the tears. The Vulcan's eyes were luminous and wet in the faint light from the porch.

"I still love you," Jim sobbed fingers tightly gripping Spock's shirt.

"Oh, ashayam," Spock sighed into his hair. "I love you still."

"Why did you leave me, Spock?" Jim cried. "I needed you."

"I'm sorry, Jim," Spock breathed, he leaned down and rested his forehead against Jim's. "I never want to be parted from you again. Forgive me."

They laid under the stars until Jim stopped crying, Spock offering silent support and just holding him. After Jim was finished, Spock helped him off the ground and into the house. He took in Jim's appearance, but asked no questions, just helped Jim strip his clothing and get into the shower to wash the dirt from his scrapes.

Jim looked small and pale on top of the toilet seat as Spock rubbed cream over the scrapes and bruises. Spock's eyes tightened on his face as his fingers trailed over the protruding ribs. He took in Jim then, his face too thin and bones protruding from beneath fragile skin. He got Jim dressed in a pair of sleeping pants and a t-shirt, both worn and soft from age. He wrapped Jim in a blanket and put him to bed. He was leaving when Jim's voice called to him from the blankets.

"Spock?"

"Yes, Jim?"

"Stay."

He curled himself against Jim's back, wrapping an arm around the man's waist, holding him close. Spock just held Jim that night while Jim slept, he just watched Jim sleep and breathe. How curious this creature in his arms. He thought back to his elder counterpart's speech and squeezed Jim closer to him.


	5. Chapter 5

Back on the Enterprise, Jim made it clear that their relationship was back to square one. They no longer shared rooms and they had date nights again. They spent time over chess and meals; it was taking a long time falling back into the easy camaraderie they once had. Spock did not advance his affections and Jim did not encourage them. They were taking it slowly, near the slowness Spock had wanted at the beginning of their relationship. Spock found himself frustrated from time to time, but quickly pushed the emotion down. This wasn't about his feelings, it was about Jim's. Jim was healing, slowly but surely under the watchful eye of Spock and the bridge crew. They had each found their own way to apologize to the captain.

Jim was distressed over seeing his friend Bones. So far they had avoided each other, but he knew he would need Bones' help in the long road of recovery. He stood outside the doctor's office with the medical PADD in his hand. He waited until the good doctor noticed his presence in the doorway, waiting for Bones to feel him standing there.

"Jim?" Bones looked up at the figure lurking in his doorway. This was a pale imitation of his friend that he was presented with and one he wasn't entirely sure of.

"Hey," Jim looked unsure. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," Bones stood up. He waved to the seat in front of his desk. Jim's chair, the one Jim usually took when they used to spend the night drinking out of the doctor's emergency bourbon supply. "Have a seat."

Jim sat down quietly and Bones took in at how wasted away his friend was, his heart hurt at the sight. He was supposed to be taking care of his friend and this is what happened when he neglected his friendly duties and turned his back on Jim Kirk. He chose to believe the lies that he had been given. The new evidence had come out and there was more paperwork to be added to Jim's medical file. He couldn't read it the first time through, he nearly broke down completely when he read the incident report.

"I need your help," Jim began, not quite sure how to approach his friend. "But, I think I'd rather have my best friend back than my doctor."

That made Bones get up quickly and walk around the edge of his desk to sweep Jim into his arms. Jim returned the hug tightly, gaining comfort in his friend's embrace.

"Anything, Jim," Bones spoke quietly into Jim's ear. "I'm so, so sorry."

"I know, Bones."

And the nickname Jim had given him ignited new hope, that all wasn't truly lost and that they could have something resembling friendship again. Bones broke off the hug awkwardly and didn't like the way Jim looked wary of him, like he would have to defend himself at a moment's notice.

"There's not much the empathic healers can do, I need good old-fashioned human medicine," Jim gave a small smile. It was only an upturn of the right side of Jim's mouth, but it was good to see him have humor on his face again.

"This," Jim passed the PADD over to Bones, "is my complete medical file. It has everything on it since I was born. If I'm going to get treatment, my doctor has to know everything… I'd… understand if you don't want to take a case like this. I know you don't like psychology or psychiatry or whatever."

"Jim," Bones cut into his rant. "The complaining is all for show. I want to do this."

"Do you… Do you want me to be here while you read it?" Jim asked tentatively.

"I think that's up to you, Jim. Do you want M'Benga on this too?"

"If you think it will help… Probably, since he knows stuff about Vulcans. That might help," Jim fidgeted. "I want to fix this Vulcan mind link. It's been broken for awhile, and it's not healthy to keep it like that. But, I couldn't get a Vulcan healer on it until I cleared up the other traumas."

"Traumas?" Bones asked warily. He knew something of Jim Kirk's past, through the ghosts of the medical files and countless ticks in Jim's behavior. He had that look about him, the one he hated seeing on kids that came under his care. About going back to a place that would push the life out of them, would break their fragile bones and minds. He was just a doctor, he couldn't put them together again. Not all the time, sometimes they needed more help than he could give. But this, this was a challenge he would willingly go to the ends of the universe for. He would earn his friend's trust back again. It would take a long time, he realized, for that hunted look to go away from Jim's eyes. That tired look that he had seen in the ER, when failed suicidals had gone through. They were quite clear they were just passing through, he never saw them again.

"It's better if you read it. I won't be far," Jim gave that half grin again. "You'll have questions I'm sure. I'll give them to you."

Jim was one of the surviving Tarsus nine.

There it was in black and white on his unrestricted medical file. Bones scrolled through the PADD warily, not sure of what he would find. How Jim Kirk had held himself together as well as countless other people, he didn't know.

"Jim," Bones' voice cracked as he called Jim over the comm. He waited for a long while, scrolling through the pages, idly. Jim arrived not much later, hovering near the doorway.

"Bones?"

"Jim," and Bones walked over and put his arms around his friend. "I'm so glad you're still with us."

Jim hugged him back fiercely. "Me too."

"Good," Bones cleared his throat. "All right. I think we can begin tomorrow, if that suits you. You and Spock definitely have a ways to go. I think that it will work out though."

"I hope you're right, Bones."

"I know I'm right. Now, go hang out with your pointy-eared boyfriend and let me think on this."

Jim grinned. "All right."

Jim chimed at the door to Spock's quarters and walked in after the called, 'Enter.'

"Spock," Jim smiled at the Vulcan working at his desk. Spock turned his full attention onto his boyfriend.

"Jim," he nodded formally from his seat.

Jim chuckled and approached. He pulled Spock's chair back a bit and settled into Spock's lap, straddling the other man's thighs.

"I told Bones," he leaned forward and rested his head on Spock's shoulder, nose going right into the juncture of Spock's neck.

"What did you speak about?"

"Everything. He's got a plan going, and you know Bones, he's not going to stop until I'm fully healed."

Spock wrapped his arms around Jim, nosing his way into Jim's hair and taking a deep breath. "Are you all right?"

"I will be, Spock. I will be."

The End.


End file.
